There are some problems with hunting
by reading.fanfics.at.200am.hbu
Summary: Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, and the famed warlock himself are on a hunting trip, and things don't really go as well as they'd wish. Or, where they go on a hunting trip and Merlin falls ill, but perhaps none of them realize just how ill.
1. Chapter 1

"_Mer_lin!" Shouted King Arthur from the physician's door, "I thought I told you to be ready at first light. It's been over an hour!"

"Sorry, _sire_," Merlin stated with as much contempt as he could muster, "I needed to help Gaius care for one of the knights. He's fallen ill." Arthur scoffed, accepting the excuse but deciding not to show it.

"Do you think we can go now, Merlin? Or do you need more beauty sleep?" Merlin made a face that could be likened to either a smirk or a grimace, then grabbed his bag and followed his master out the door and to the horses.

The duo walked down the many stairs, mostly in silence, save for the occasional formality they would exchange with passing guards. WIthin a few minutes, they reached the foot of the castle, where they found Gwaine, Lancelot, and Elyan waiting for them, already mounted on their saddles, as well as two extra horses.

"Well, I found the useless lump!" Announced Arthur, putting his arm around Merlin in a joking and teasing manner. He turned to Merlin, who was glaring daggers at the blond. Realizing that he had kept his arm around his servant longer than what was entirely necessary, Arthur quickly withdrew his arm from Merlin and turned to mount his horse. "Well, come on. Let's go on the hunt. I've alerted the Queen that we are only to be gone for two days at the most, so we should hurry." And, with that, they were off, Merlin trailing behind them.

A few hours later, the five men were stationed outside a gathering of large and healthy deer, each pointing their crossbows at the animals (except Merlin, of course). Right as Arthur was getting ready to shoot one of the deer, they took fright, scattering left and right for no apparent reason. The knights sighed in frustration, and Merlin in relief. He never really liked to go hunting, not really. The poor animals did nothing wrong, and they were slaughtered. But, the King enjoyed this pastime, so go Merlin must.

"We should go further North." Suggested Elyan, "There we may be able to find more game." Athur nodded once in Elyan's direction, then turned his horse to the North.

"We must be careful. Bandits run rampant in that area, but we can take them." Declared the King with a smile. Merlin made eye contact with Arthur, who was searching for confirmation in his servant's eyes that this was a good idea. Merlin knew that his master would never admit it, but Arthur did often look to the young warlock for advice, whether it be trivial matters or decisions that would affect the fate of Camelot. Merlin nodded in Arthur's direction, then coughed into his hand. The cough brought to his attention that his throat was beginning to feel rather dry. He grabbed some water out of the side pocket of his horse and took a couple sips, frowning when the water caught in his throat and made him cough again. Gwaine looked in his direction and winked, as if they were sharing some amusing secret that no one knew about, and Merlin smiled. They quickly caught up with the rest of the group and then they were on their way.

They were passing a shallow trench when in happened. The men heard a shout, and then about a dozen bandits ran from the trench. Quickly, they dismounted their horses and entered the battle. Merlin stood off to the side, waiting to see if any of the warriors needed his assistance. Gwaine was locked in combat with two veiled men, and looked like he was having the time of his life. Elyan incapacitated one man, then began fighting another, seemingly at ease with the situation. Lancelot easily killed the men who approached him, not even breaking a sweat. Merlin's eyes flitted to Arthur and saw his master fighting with the obvious leader of the group of bandits. They were occupied with the fight, and Arthur didn't even notice the stray bandit creeping up behind them, sword raised; But Merlin did. Tilting his head forward, the young warlock's eyes flashed gold, and the sword flew out of the bandit's hands. To Merlin's surprise, he stumbled back, seemingly weakened by this small act of magic. Before he could study this further, Lancelot, finally noticing the King's predicament, rushed forward and thrust his sword into the bandit's back, killing him instantly. The leader of the bandits looked around, and saw that he was the only one of his men left standing; the others were either injured or dead by the hands of the knights. His eyes widened, and before anyone knew what was going on, the man fled.

Arthur, surprised at this man's cowardice, lowered his sword cautiously and surveyed the dead bandits around them. Then, he raised his eyes and surveyed his men.

"Is everyone alright?" Asked Arthur, looking around. One by one, each of the knights nodded and found a spot to sit, obviously tired out from the battle. But, as Arthur looked closer, he noticed someone was missing. "Merlin?" He called out, searching for his loyal servant. When no one responded, he stood up and started looking around their makeshift camp.

"Maybe he needed to take a leak." Laughed Gwaine, "Maybe he wet himself." But Arthur wasn't listening.

"Merlin!" He yelled, kneeling next to the unconscious man. He shook him, hard, and slapped him, "Come on Merlin, don't be such a girl. Wake up, I don't want to carry you." At this point, the knights noticed what was going on and were anxiously looking at the scene unfolding, To everyone's relief, however, Merlin blearily opened his eyes, obviously confused at what was going on.

"What… happened?" He whispered, struggling to his feet with the help of Arthur.

"We don't know." Stated Arthur, " You must've gotten a blow to the head. Dizzy?"

"Uh, a bit." Answered Merlin, his voice stronger.

"Oh, well, glad to see you weren't even _fighting_ and you managed to get hurt." Lancelot said with a smile, "Now, come on. You should rest. We should _all _rest. It's getting dark." The other men agreed, and Merlin pushed Arthur away.

"I can walk, you know." He said, obviously irritated but grinning all the same. He walked the short distance to where the other men had started a fire and plopped down next to Lancelot and Gwaine. "Did you all make it out alright?" He asked, clearly wanting to remove the looks of concern coming from the men sitting next to him.

"Better than you, I guess." Said Gwaine with a grin.

"Yeah." Chuckled Merlin, rubbing his head subconsciously.

"Does it hurt?" Asked Lancelot, beginning to examine Merlin's head for lacerations.

"Yeah, but it's funny. I don't remember getting hit."

"You won't if it's bad enough." Added Elyan. "Once I got hit in the head by one of my Dad's tools. Took me a week before I remembered that it had happened at all." Arthur looked at Elyan with curiosity.

"How did you get hit in the head with a _blacksmith's_ tools?" Elyan moved slightly, obviously uncomfortable, before answering.

"I made Gwen mad." He stated simply, causing everyone else to laugh.

"Yeah, I made that mistake once," Said Arthur. She put _honey_ in the sheets on my side of the bed. Took _ages _to clean out." At this Merlin chuckled.

"How would _you_ know?" He quipped. "_You_ don't clean the sheets." The knights laughed harder, and so did Merlin, but his throat caught in the laugh, and he launched into a coughing fit. He sat up from his place between Gwaine and Lancelot and coughed into his fist, startled by this sudden revolt from his throat. After a little bit his throat calmed down and he grabbed some water to choke down. After swallowing the last of his water, he looked up to see four pairs of eyes on him.

"What the _hell _was that?" Asked Arthur, looking at Merlin with annoyance and a bit of concern.

"Oh, nothing. I must have swallowed wrong or something." Huffed Merlin, a bit out of breath from the fit. "I'm fine." He looked around at the knights, who were all still looking at him (especially Lancelot, who had not missed how out of breath Merlin had become), and repeated, "I'm _fine_." The other men seemed to accept this, finally, and continued to converse back and forth. This time, Merlin didn't join, but instead he leaned back to get some rest. He was feeling unusually tired, but he attributed this to the supposed head injury. Closing his tired eyes, he was lulled to sleep by the comforting sounds of conversation around him.

After the conversation began to dwindle, Lancelot settled back to rest for the upcoming day. As he laid back, he heard something odd coming from his right, where Merlin slept. He moved his face closer to the young warlock and identified the faint sound of wheezing coming from him. Alarm began to rise in Lancelot as he continued to listen to Merlin's breathing. But, after a couple of minutes, he began to reason with himself. _Get a grip_, Lancelot thought to himself, _I'm probably just hearing things. Or he just has a cold. He _is _prone to catching colds_. Successfully putting the matter behind, the young knight carefully laid back down as to avoid waking the possibly ailing boy, and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin opened his eyes suddenly thrown into consciousness by coughing for the second time that night. He stood up quickly (_too quickly_, he thought, thrown off balance by a rush of dizziness) and walked from the camp, hoping not to wake any of the other men. Once he was far enough away, he sat down and leaned against a rough tree, trying to catch his breath. For the first time, he wondered if maybe he wasn't just breathing with his mouth open and that maybe he was catching a cold. _Great_, he thought, letting out another few light coughs, _just another thing for Arthur to tease me for_. Merlin still hadn't forgotten the _last_ time he was ill on a hunt, and how Arthur had teased him relentlessly about scaring away the game. Once he was sure that his lungs had settled down, Merlin stood from his spot at the foot of the tree (_again, too quickly_, he thought, as his body was taken over by dizziness once more) and made his way back to camp. Once he arrived, he settled down in a different spot than before, so as to make sure that if he _was_ coming down with something, he wouldn't infect any of his friends. He slowly made himself comfortable before attempting to drift off to sleep. However, his throat had a different plan, and a sudden and sharp cough cut through the silence of the night, and he heard one of the knights stir from the other side of the camp. Then, footsteps.

"Merlin?" He heard Lancelot say quietly, voice rough from sleep. "What are you doing over here? Are you alright?" Merlin cleared his throat before answering, not wanting another incident.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got something stuck in my throat. Sorry for waking you." Merlin could sense rather that hear Lancelot sit down beside him, and could feel his friend's hand on his forehead, gauging for fever. Merlin pushed the hand away and laughed a bit. "I said I'm fine. See? No fever."

"I was just checking. I don't want you getting too sick out here."

"I'm not ill." Countered Merlin, frustrated and tired. "I'm just… tired. And I didn't want to wake anyone up." Lancelot chuckled, then laid down next to his friend. Merlin tried to protest, but Lancelot quieted him.

"I'm too tired to stand back up. And besides, Gwaine snores." Merlin snorted a laugh, as Lancelot was not wrong, but the laugh lead to another cough. However, this time he was able to stifle it under his hand as to not wake anyone else up. Lancelot turned his head toward the young warlock and frowned. "You sure you're feeling alright?"

"Of course." Whispered Merlin, already halfway to sleep.

"Okay…" Replied Lancelot, still unsure but able to take a hint. "Get some rest, Merlin. Arthur wants us to be up by first light, and he won't take kindly to sleeping in." Merlin smiled but did not reply, and within minutes they were both asleep once more.

As Lancelot predicted, the King was up at dawn, already starting to pack up camp. The other knights soon followed, and then Merlin. Arthur handed a pack of cooking supplies to Merlin without looking at his servant's face, and continued with putting out the fire. Gwaine, however, _did_ look at Merlin's face, and when he did, he frowned in concern.

"Merlin, what's the matter with you? You look tired. Have you been sneaking liquor with you again?" Merlin shrugged and rubbed his eyes blearily.

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"Right." Replied Gwaine, then set off to mount his horse. "You coming?" It took Merlin a moment to realize that the other knights have already packed up everything and were waiting for him on their horses. Merlin pasted on a smile and mounted his as well.

"Of course. Let's go."

"We're lost, sire." Declared Elyan, exasperated with the young King.

"I'm _telling _you, we're not lost. It's just a… detour. We'll be back home soon."

"Right. You said that two hours ago, my lord." Added Gwaine, clearly frustrated as well.

"And two hours before that." Lancelot reminded them, chuckling at the predicament. In truth, Arthur had no idea where they were, and neither did anyone else.

"Did anyone try going South?" Asked Merlin, then coughed twice into his wrist. "As we went North before?"

"As always, Merlin, you're lack of intellect surprises me. We have been moving South this whole time." Merlin blinked in surprise.

"But, then, shouldn't we be getting closer to the castle?" Asked Merlin, clearly confused and, now that Arthur looked a bit closer at his servant, exhausted.

"Yes, we should. That's why we're confused. Because we still cannot see the castle." Arthur glanced at Merlin again to see him quickly stifling a few coughs into his sleeve, shoulders heaving with the effort of keeping quiet. "Merlin, if you need to cough, just cough. It's more annoying to hear you _squeak_." The young warlock blushed immensely before coughing for real, making Lancelot wince at the sound. Just as he suspected, the cold Merlin was fighting off before seemed to have moved to his chest, if the wet-sounding coughs coming from the young man were anything to judge by. Arthur looked taken aback by the sound as well, but simply shrugged a bit and turned his horse.

"Well, we should keep going." Elyan said tentatively, not oblivious to the tension going on beneath the scene, but also ready to get home and see his sister.

"Of course," Arthur said loudly, "I promised Gwen that we would be back by tonight, and the sun is beginning to set."

"Sire, if I may." Interrupted Lancelot, now worried about Merlin, "We have been riding all day, and I'm beginning to get hungry. Maybe we should rest tonight and reorient ourselves tomorrow." In truth, Lancelot was just fine with continuing to ride, but Merlin looked about ready to fall off his horse, and from the few looks the two exchanged, Lancelot could see the paleness in the boy's face. Arthur looked hesitant, as did Elyan, but then Gwaine spoke up.

"I believe we should rest as well." He said confidently. In truth, he had not missed the coughing and the exhaustion taking hold in the young warlock, and was also a bit worried, but of course wouldn't show it. That was Lancelot's job.

"Fine," Agreed Arthur, "But we ride at dawn!" A chorus of "Of course"'s and "Yes, sire"'s rang through the group, and they found a small clearing in which they could make camp. They all dismounted and began to set up camp, Merlin pausing every few minutes to cough harshly into his sleeve and Lancelot pausing every few minutes to make sure the servant is okay. In fact, the servant was _not_ okay, and he knew it. Throughout the day, Merlin's throat had continued to burn, his head continued to pound, and he had the beginnings of a pain in his chest as well as an ache in his bones. He had sincerely hoped that whatever he was coming down with would leave without taking hold, but that apparently did not happen.

"Merlin, not that I'm complaining, but you're being unusually quiet today. Is something the matter?" Merlin's head snapped up and focused on the young king who had just spoken. His face was indifferent, but his eyebrows were knitted together in a way that spoke of concern. Merlin coughed before answering.

"No, not at all, I'm fine." He answered, but not without noticing that his voice was several notes lower, and that speaking sent a sharp pain through his throat. The knights frowned after hearing Merlin speak, but the King kept his voice impassive as he replied.

"Right, which I suppose is why you sound like you swallowed a sword. Are you ill?"

"Maybe a bit. But I'm fine, really! It's just a cold." Arthur didn't believe him, of course, but let it go (_for now_, he thought to himself). As much as he would deny it, Arthur had grown to care for the idiot, despite all his shortcomings, and didn't like when the servant became ill. Last year, Merlin managed to catch lung fever, a potentially deadly infection of the lungs, which led to a month of fevered dreams and coughing up blood. Arthur did _not _enjoy the time without his manservant, and not just because of all the chores that went undone. He missed the casual banter and conversation, more than he would really care to admit. So, when he saw that Merlin was ailing, he decided to take it easy for the day. However, it seemed that the day of easy riding did not do his servant any good, and the light cough from yesterday had moved to his chest.

"Be that as it may, I think resting tonight will do us all good. Why don't you rest, Merlin, and Gwaine can make dinner."

"You're _joking_, sire. You must be!" Exclaimed Gwaine, to the laughter of the rest of the men. Arthur laughed as well, but quieted quickly.

"Of course I'm joking. Elyan will do it." He glanced at Elyan to see if that's okay, and he nodded to confirm that this was, indeed, an alright task to hand him. Merlin looked as if he would protest, but Lancelot's hand on his shoulder reminded him that he _was_ ill, and he _should _take any opportunity as it comes to rest. He quietly sat on a nearby log and coughed a couple times, wincing as the pain in his chest flared with every cough. He didn't notice when Arthur sat next to him, holding a container of water.

"Drink." The king ordered, and Merlin did. When he was done, he coughed once more and handed the container back to Arthur.

"Thanks." He said quietly, staring at his feet.

"Don't mention it. Get some rest. I expect you to be better by tomorrow though." Arthur smiled and clapped his servant on the back.

"Of course, sire." Merlin rasped, then laughed, which quickly turned into a cough. Arthur's smile faded as the young warlock coughed, forcibly reminding him of the bout with lung fever. The illness scared everyone, especially Gaius. Arthur had never seen the physician so worried about anyone, or so scared. Arthur briefly wondered if Merlin was coming down with it again, but after listening to the young warlock's cough a bit more, he realized that this cough was different. It wasn't as productive, and there was no blood, and no fever. _Well_, thought Arthur, _there may be a fever_, noticing the sheen of sweat on Merlin's brow and the way he shuddered despite the relatively warm night. Deciding not to say anything more, Arthur stood up and walked to the other side of camp, where Gwaine and Elyan were engaged in a game of some sort. Lancelot, on the other hand, had taken Arthur's place next to Merlin and was gently rubbing the warlock's back as the fit subsided. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, Arthur tried to forget all about lung fevers and coughs and tried instead to immerse himself in the dice game being played with the two knights.

Lancelot, on the other hand, was beginning to get frightened. After the coughing stopped, there was an audible wheeze coming from his friend's chest, and he seemed to not be able to get his breath back. From the hand Lancelot kept on Merlin's back, he could tell that the young boy was beginning to get a small fever as well.

"You need to sleep this off Merlin. You don't want to be riding around all day tomorrow with this cough. Just lay down. You'll probably feel better in the morning. Lancelot laid down and closed his eyes, hoping Merlin would follow suit. Thankfully, the young warlock did, and without a word, he laid down next to his friend, unconsciously drawing close to the heat of the knight, as the fever was beginning to make Merlin shiver. Lancelot, slightly uncomfortable with how close the ill warlock was to him, nevertheless let Merlin sidle up next to him, but glared angrily at the other knights as they began to snicker at the position their fellow knight found himself in. He wasn't angry at Merlin, however, just worried. _Well,_ he thought, _at least I won't be cold tonight_. He chuckled slightly at this thought, and, with a final hope that this better not be contagious, he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur stared at the two sleeping men with some intrigue. In his sleep, Merlin had moved closer to Lancelot, until the knight was practically _spooning_ the ill servant. Arthur knew that Lancelot would be disgusted with the situation if he was awake, but the steady rise and fall of his shoulders showed that he was in a restful sleep. Arthur sighed, turning from the scene and gazing at the two other knights. Elyan laid awake, playing with a stick quietly, obviously deep in thought. The king had noticed that the young knight had been falling into silences like this more often, but he simply assumed that it was a side effect of the change in season. Gwaine, on the other hand, was fast asleep, snoring loudly in his iconic matter. Arthur kept watch over his men with steadfast attentiveness, too wired to sleep. In truth, he hasn't gotten lost in these woods since he was a small boy, and he found that he didn't really like the feeling. Plus, he figured that he should get Merlin to Gaius as soon as possible. That cough didn't sound good, and Arthur didn't want a repeat of last year.

As if conjured, Merlin snapped awake by a particularly violent snore from Gwaine. Very quickly, he realized the position Lancelot and he were in and struggled to remove himself from the awkward situation. Once he had rolled away from Lancelot, he let out a couple of short, tight coughs in the opposite direction. Despite the sharp pain this cough brought forth, he felt better than the night before. He was no longer shivering, and his head ached slightly less. Despite that, his chest still burned, as did his throat. He sat up, hoping for a better position to breathe in. After sitting up, he noticed Arthur watching him intently. Once the King saw that he was being watched as well, he looked away, appearing to be slightly embarrassed. Merlin, not really paying attention to Arthur's behavior, let out a few more coughs before groaning slightly. Well, _that _got Arthur's attention. In a flash, the King's eyes were on Merlin again. The young warlock ignored this and coughed again, grimacing as he spat out the vile fluid brought forth. _Damn_, he thought.

"Merlin?" Out came a tentative, almost nervous voice that Merlin could not recognize at first. Then, with a start, he realized that it was Arthur.

"Arthur, hey!" Merlin whispered, not daring to bring his voice higher than that, lest he trigger another attack. "What are you doing up?" He asked, trying for a cheery tone despite his exhaustion and failing miserably.

"I was keeping watch." The king answered simply, before taking a breath to speak again. "Merlin, you-"

"Before you say I really don't sound good, I already told you, I'm _fine_. I've just got a cold, that's all." Arthur looked at his servant incredulously, and Merlin could feel the suspicion coming from the man. "Really, Arthur, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about it."

"I'm not _worried_," Arthur responded quickly, "I just don't want my men to fall ill as well. And speaking of that, maybe you should think twice about _cuddling with a knight_ while you are _clearly _contagious." Arthur's tone sounded serious, but when one knows him like Merlin does, they can tell when he's being for real serious and mock serious.

"I was _asleep_, sire. Trust me, if I had been awake…" He let the sentence trail off, not wanting to aggravate his throat further. However, the King must have gotten the hint, because he let the conversation drop and sat down on the other side of the same tree as Merlin.

"Sire? What…"

"Well I can't have you choking on your own throat while you sleep, now can I? I'll be here if you wake up, for now, just… sleep. You need what little strength you can. _Not_ that you had much to begin with." Arthur adds, smile in his voice.

"Why do you always have to be such an ass?" Whispered Merlin, his exhaustion overtaking him.

"I dunno, clotpole."

"That's my word…" And with that, Merlin drifted off into a fitful sleep. But not Arthur. Arthur continued watching over his men, because that's what a king does. He also may have been watching over Merlin, making sure that warlock kept breathing, because he could really do without _that_ happening again.

Morning came too quickly for Elyan's liking. He had woken up several times during the night, as he often does, from nightmares. He also was awake when Arthur went to talk with Merlin. Although Elyan was relatively calm (except when concerning his sister), he felt a stir of worry whenever he thought of the illness Merlin was clearly suffering from. However, he was always unsure of what to do in these situations, so he just left it to the other knights. Besides, they seemed to be doing just fine with the sick servant.

Merlin awoke slowly, confused. He very distinctly remembered falling asleep at the tree with Arthur, but when he woke up, he was laying down, propped up by both his own pillow and another's. Not that he was complaining. While he slept, it seemed that the loose phlegm in his lungs had settled to the bottom, making his chest feel impossibly tight and making every breath shallow and painful. Sitting up seemed to help a bit, so sit up he did, blinking blearily at the active men around him.

"Arthur?" He said, only to feel an incredibly sharp pain in his throat which caused him to begin coughing. However, this time was different than before. The cough was no longer productive, but short, chesty, and wheezy. While he could _feel _the junk in his lungs, he could no longer cough it _out_, which led to a consistent and painful urge to cough. Gwaine, who was packing up his own bedroll nearby, called out to Merlin.

"Morning sleepyhead! How are you feeling?" Instead of answering, the young warlock just continued to cough, until finally he could get it to stop by taking short, choppy breaths.

"How do you think?" He answered, earning a chuckle from the knights, including Arthur.

"Well, I hope you got your strength back, because we're about to leave." Arthur said, glancing at his servant with concern masked with impatience.

"I hope so too." Mumbled Merlin, rolling up the bedrole and standing. He felt himself lose his balance, and in order to steady himself, he used the first bit of magic since the bandits to try and steady himself, but instead, the magic seemed to sap what little strength he had left, and he fell to the forest floor.

"What was that Me- Merlin!" Shouted Arthur, seeing his servant laying on the ground. Abandoning all pretense, the King rushed to his Merlin's side and knelt beside him. "Merlin, this is the second time you've passed out in two days. Don't make me pick you up." But Merlin did not stir. "Lancelot!" Arthur called, but the young knight was already right beside him. "Get me some water."

"Yes, my lord." And Lancelot ran off to grab the water containers.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Asked Gwaine, fear ringing through his usually carefree voice.

"I don't know Gwaine, do I look like a physician?" Arthur quipped, not taking his eyes off the warlock. "Merlin, can you hear me?" No answer. "Merlin!" Arthur was beginning to panic slightly. "Come on, Merlin."

"Here, sire." Lancelot had returned with the water, and Arthur took it gratefully, though not entirely sure how to use it in this situation. Making up his mind, he poured a little of the water in Merlin's mouth, trying to rouse the pale boy. Fortunately it worked. Merlin woke with a start, and Arthur's relief was short lived before Merlin began to cough again. Lancelot helped Arthur sit Merlin up and lean him to one side so that he could cough up whatever was stuck in his chest. After a minute or so, the coughing seemed to ease a bit, and Merlin looked weakly at everyone's worried faces.

"What's everyone looking at?" He said, a bit alarmed to hear how far his voice had gone. He attempted to stand, but found both Arthur and Lancelot holding him down.

"Just lay down Merlin. We don't want you _fainting_ again." Teased Arthur. "What was that about?"

"I dunno. I just stood up and I… got dizzy."

"Ah, you 'got dizzy'. Right."

"Yeah, I got dizzy, but I'm fine now, Come on, you said we were leaving." Merlin once again tried to stand, but he once again found Lancelot's hand on his chest.

"Just relax Merlin."

"No!" The warlock yelled, then coughed a couple times into his sleeve, eliciting a few looks exchanged over his head. "I'm not going to slow everyone down because I've gone and caught myself a cold. We have to get home, and I'll be fine." Lancelot and Arthur looked dubiously at Merlin.

"Are you sure?" Arthur verified with his servant. They met eyes and Merlin nodded curtly.

"Of course."

"Then let's go." He helped Merlin to his feet, not missing when he winced. "What?" The King asked.

"My chest. It hurts a bit."

"How much is a bit?"

"A lot."

"Right. Well, how do you feel about sharing a horse with Lancelot over here? We can't have you falling off your horse." Merlin shook his head and smiled.

"I think I'm capable of riding a horse, thank you very much." Arthur shrugged and mounted his horse, also not missing when Merlin stumbled while mounting his own steed.

"Right."

As they rode along, Merlin was deep in thought. _I can't use magic?_ The thought raced around his skull, punctuated only by the occasional cough and dizzy spell, before he could think of a logical answer. _Of course. I'm already weak from whatever this is, and it's no secret that magic is draining. That must be it._ Satisfied by this answer, he simply vowed to withhold from using magic until this damn cough blew over. _Shouldn't be too hard_, he reasoned, as he coughed into his sleeve once more. He wasn't coughing as frequently as he was before, but the fits were becoming longer and much more painful. Twice now he had to stop to empty his stomach along the side of the path and twice more he had to stop to catch his breath. He knew that he was attracting looks from all the men, but he just kept staring straight ahead, and none of them said anything. That is, until Lancelot spoke with relief,

"I can see the castle!" Everyone else looked at where he was pointing and could see the giant towers looming over the forest.

"Finally!"

"Thank God!"

"It looks to be close. We should make it before nightfall." After Arthur declared this news, the knights cheered, as they had not brought enough provisions for a trip this long, and they were beginning to grow hungry, not to mention thirsty. And then there was the matter of Merlin. It was both everyones' and no ones' mind, as no one wanted to really think about how ill the young warlock could end up being once the trip was over, and yet everyone couldn't stop. Just as well.

A half an hour later, Merlin stopped his horse.

"Arthur?" He called feebly, causing the King to stop in his tracks and look at his friend.

"Yes?" Merlin cleared his throat, then looked embarrassed.

"Could we.. I mean, could I…"

"Spit it out, Merlin." The servant straightened slightly, then tried again.

"I was wondering if maybe we could take a break." Arthur, taken aback, simply nodded, being too surprised to do much else. The men dismounted their horses, except for Merlin, who practically fell off. Quickly, Gwaine was there, making sure Merlin didn't keel face-first into the mud.

"Woah there, need me to hold your hand?" Merlin, who didn't have enough energy to laugh, just smiled wearily and plopped down on a nearby rock. No one really seemed to know what to do when he started coughing again. Arthur, just taking a chance, sat down next to the clearly suffering man and tentatively rubbed his back, unsure if he was doing it right.

"Come on _Merlin_, stop coughing. It's disturbing." Merlin huffed out a laugh between the coughs. He continued to cough, and no one really knew when it changed, but suddenly, something shifted, and the cough became much more violent, racking Merlin's weak frame to it's very core.

"Merlin!" Shouted Arthur when the young warlock started to shake in pain (or fear?). "What's wrong?"

"Hurts… " He whimpered. "Make… stop."

"I don't know how!" The young King looked in panic at the rest of the group, who seemed just as afraid as Arthur, then looked back at his servant, who had one hand over his mouth and one hand fisting Arthur's cloak. They sat there, quiet except for Merlin's painful coughs, for an undetermined time, before the cough became further between, and some of the color returned to the young man's face.

"What was that?" Burst out Elyan, obviously shaken by the event. All other faces turned to Merlin, clearly wanting an answer to the question, but their eyes widened when they saw tears trailing down Merlin's face, and his hand still not removed from his mouth.

"Merlin?" Lancelot said tentatively, and the servant's teary eyes met the knight's.

"I'm sorry…" He whispered.

"What for?" Probed Gwaine, confused as well as curious.

"For worrying everyone. I'm not… you shouldn't have too…"

"Oh come on Merlin, we know we don't have to," Elyan cut in, "We just _are_"

"Besides, don't be such a _girl_," The King predictably said, "We all get sick sometimes. Remember last month?" Merlin snickered when he remembered how Arthur had spent three nights straight hunched over a bucket in Gaius's chamber, burning up and unable to keep anything down, and how Arthur had spent the whole time _whining_ about how he missed his bed. Prat.

"It's d-different for me." Stammered Merlin, clearly embarrassed by the situation but stubborn all the same. "I'm… I'm _nobody_. I can't _afford _to be ill. All I have is what I am for you, and I can't even do that." Arthur was thoroughly confused, but Lancelot thought that he knew what was going on. However, if Merlin kept talking, Lancelot knew that they would be in serious trouble, as they were broaching the subject of his magic.

"I think he has a fever, sire." Said the nervous knight, hoping Merlin didn't say anything to get them in trouble. Arthur reached up and felt Merlin's forehead with the back of his hand, frowning with dismay when he felt the heat radiating off the young man. Merlin leaned into the touch, but quickly leaned away when he truly figured out what was going on.

"Arthur, you shouldn't be so close. I wouldn't want you to catch this. It's really not pleasant." And despite the outcry of his friends, he stood up. "I'm fine. _FIne_." He added when Gwaine made a move to help him. "We should get going if we want to get to the castle by nightfall." Arthur started, but then took in Merlin's words and took them to be true.

"He's right." The King announced. "We should be on our way. Merlin, can you ride? Never mind, don't answer that. Lancelot, would you be alright with Merlin tagging along on your horse?"

"Of course." Lancelot winked at Merlin when the young warlock rolled his eyes but made his way to his friend's horse. After attempting to mount the horse on his own for the third time, Lancelot offered a hand, and Merlin took it, mounting the horse in one less-than-smooth move.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The small group began moving forward once more, and after making sure that Merlin was situated, the knight followed suit. Within a few minutes, Merlin was leaning on his friend, halfway to sleep. Lancelot reached behind and patted the young warlock on the shoulder, pausing when Merlin coughed once more. "Just sleep. I'll wake you when we get to the castle." Merlin smiled and nodded, obviously too drained to do much else, and promptly fell into the world of dreams once more.


	4. Chapter 4

"Merlin, wake up." Lancelot shook the young warlock gently by the shoulders. "We've arrived. You have to get up so we can get you to Gaius." Merlin stirred sluggishly, then opened his eyes to reveal too-bright eyes underneath.

"Wha… Gaius?" He murmured quietly, then coughed violently into the air, too weak to cover it.

"Yes, Gaius. We have to get you to him." The knight repeated, slightly worried about the look of confusion on his friend's face. He lifted a hand to steady Merlin before helping him to the ground, partially holding him up when his feet hit solid earth. "Can you walk?"

"Of course." Lancelot stepped back, hands raised, letting Merlin attempt to walk on his own. The ailing boy actually did quite well, until he coughed again, causing him to stumble.

"Are you _absolutely_ sure?" asked Arthur, and Merlin turned to him with a new fire in his eyes, quite separate from the burning fever.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Merlin said loudly, causing him to turn and cough a few times in his fist. "You guys worry too much. I'm fine. I'll just go to Gaius and he'll give me a potion and I'll be fit to act as your moving target. That's all you care about right? That the trusty servant will be by your side, in sickness and in health? Well don't worry, because I will always be here! Right where I've been since the day I arrived in Camelot! You never need to wonder if I'll be alright, because I will _always_ be fine!" And he stood there, winded from the rant, watching as Arthur stared with confusion, anger, and hurt in his eyes.

"So that's what you think then? That all we care about is what you _do_ for us?" Gwaine snapped angrily, causing Merlin's head to snap in the knight's direction.

"Yeah… Merlin, do you honestly think we don't care about you? After all we've been through together, that's what you think of us?" Asked Lancelot, causing Merlin's eyes to lower in shame.

"Come on, you're one of my best mates. Don't think I've forgotten how you saved my sister's life when you barely knew her." Added Elyan. Then, much to Merlin's surprise, Arthur stepped forward and embraced the young warlock, releasing quickly but not before speaking to him in a fierce voice.

"And you still think you're just my servant? Please. I wouldn't have put up with you for this long if you didn't have _some_ redeeming qualities. Don't ever say anything like that again. We all care about you, and if you're ill, we will help you, but not because we like you as a servant. It's because we like you as a person."

Merlin stared at Arthur, mouth open in shock before smiling hesitantly.

"Now why don't we get you to Gaius's chambers before you collapse." Lancelot said after Merlin let out a few chest-rattling coughs. He turned to walk away but in a flash he found Arthur's hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back around. The king leaned in and said in a low, threatening voice:

"Tell _anyone_ what was said here, and you will _wish_ that your only problem was a cough."

Merlin let out a sharp laugh and then a few short coughs before responding.

"Of course, _my lord_." The warlock turned once more and made his way to Gaius, taking care to keep one hand on the wall.

Watching his friend stagger away, Arthur felt a stab of guilt run through his body. He never thought he had really treated his servant _that_ badly - at least, not any worse than any of his previous servants - but it appeared that this particular one was more sensitive to his taunts and jeers. _But Merlin isn't_ like _any of my other servants_, Arthur chided to himself. The king wasn't completely oblivious to Merlin's rough childhood (a hazard of being a sickly peasant boy without a father), courtesy of overheard drunken conversations, but he could never truly imagine what it must've been like. _Of course he feels like we think he's worthless. So many people did._

"What the hell was that about?" Elyan voiced, but there was no response. Lancelot and Gwaine were privy to Merlin's insecurities as well, but Elyan hadn't really been confided in yet; he would, but not quite yet. That was just how things went sometimes with Merlin.

"I hope Gaius can do something for that cough," Lancelot said instead, watching as Merlin turned a corner in the distance, blocking him from sight, "God knows it must be painful." No one else said anything, but one by one they made their way to their chambers and reflected on the previous days' events. Arthur suffered a small but passionate rant from the Queen, who had been worried sick about them when they didn't turn up by the second day. After she heard about Merlin, however, she fell silent and crawled into bed next to her husband, softly stroking his blond hair.

"Don't worry about him, Arthur. He's always fine, in the end." This final statement reminded him far to much of what Merlin had said to them back in the hall, and he said nothing in response, just turning to give his wife a quick peck on the cheek before closing his eyes, hoping to get a few hours of sleep that night (unlike the night before).

Merlin, on the other hand had different plans. After a long and arduous journey involving several coughing fits and near-collapses, he finally reached what he had come to think of as his home. He had hoped that, upon entering, he would find Gaius awake, waiting for his ward to return. Unfortunately, this was not the case. It must have been later than the young warlock realized, because when he entered, he saw Gaius sleeping by the fire and a cold sandwich on the table with a note that read "For when you return - Gaius". Merlin sighed, coughed, then dropped his bag on the chair. He left the sandwich, too nauseous from the coughing to eat much of anything, and slowly made his way to his room, pausing once to cough again and put a hand on the table to steady himself. He saw Gaius stir in his sleep, and Merlin had the selfish desire for the physician to wake up and notice how ill his ward had become, before Merlin shook his head. _He needs rest too. Let him sleep_. With this thought, he climbed the stairs to his room and entered, sitting on his bed almost immediately. He felt something crackle in his chest before the urge to cough overtook him once more, and he dissolved into a fit of gut-wrenching coughs. He hoped to God that he wasn't disturbing Gaius, as the coughs were as loud as they were painful. After about a minute of coughing, Merlin laid back in his hard bed, not bothering to get into his nightclothes. He laid there for a few minutes before letting his exhaustion and fever take over and falling asleep.

Gaius woke in the morning to the sound of harsh coughing coming from Merlin's bedroom. The coughs hadn't woken him, as he was a notoriously deep sleeper, so he wondered how long it had been going on before he woke up. Gaius sat there and listened to the painful-sounding cough for a few seconds more, partially hoping it would go away and he wouldn't have to go wake Merlin up, but he had no such luck. The cough became more productive, and then the sound of retching and splattering reached the physician's ears. Sighing with resignation and worry, he stood and made his way into the young warlock's room, pausing when he entered to take in the scene. There was Merlin, still leaning over the side of the bed and facing what looked like green tinged water. _So he isn't eating_, thought Gaius. Merlin, who was still panting from the exertion of the fit, lifted his head to show red-rimmed eyes and a face as pale as death.

"Gaius! As y-" Merlin started, but was interrupted by rough coughing once more. He coughed into his sleeve, facing away from his guardian in the hopes that he wouldn't get him sick. Gaius, with the speed of a much younger man, crossed the room (careful to avoid the puddle of sick on the floorboards) and sat on the bed beside Merlin, rubbing the young warlock's back as he coughed and frowning when he felt the fever burning under the skin. After a little bit, the fit subsided, and Merlin leaned self-consciously against the older man's shoulder.

"As you can see, I'm home." Merlin winced as he spoke, and so did Gaius, but for entirely different reasons. Merlin coughed once more, and Gaius could hear the congestion moving around in the young boy's lungs and was immediately filled with concern.

"How long have you been ill?" Gaius asked sharply, ignoring the way Merlin shrunk in on himself before answering.

"Well-" He cleared his throat tentatively, "I really didn't start feeling that bad until the second day of the hunt."

"But how long have you been feeling under the weather?" Gaius rephrased, detecting evasion in the previous answer.

"Just a few days, I swear!"

"So you were feeling poorly before you left?"

"Not really. I mean, I felt a little slow, a little tired, but that's all." Gaius nodded once, then gestured for Merlin to take his shirt off and lay back, which he did without complaint, although he did begin coughing again while taking his shirt off, causing something of an awkward situation while he sat there, shirt half off, hacking his lungs up. Eventually, he got settled, and Gaius put a hand against Merlin's forehead to gauge the fever.

"What have your symptoms been? Other than cough, of course."

"Gaius, I'm _fine_. It's just a cold. A bad one, I'll give you that, but a cold."

"Merlin, as much as I see you as my son, right now you are my patient, which means you shut up and answer my questions." Gaius smiled to reassure the young warlock before continuing. "So, coughing?"

"Right, um… Sore throat. Feels like I swallowed fire. Headache. My chest hurts a bit," That was an understatement, but Merlin wanted this done quickly, "Nauseous, but that's from the coughing… dizzy… fever, but you already knew that, and… oh!" Merlin said suddenly, remembering the thing that had scared him the most, "My magic. It's… difficult to use, and both the times I've used it since first getting sick I passed out." Gaius raised his iconic eyebrow, before putting his head on the young warlock's chest, listening to his heart and lungs.

"Well, the headache and dizziness can be explained by the fever, and the chest pain from the coughing. Your fever isn't a high one, not anymore at least, but the thing I'm most concerned about is what I heard in your lungs. From what I could tell-"

"But what about my magic? Why can't I use it?" Gaius sighed in annoyance at being interrupted, but went with it.

"You're probably just drained, and using your magic when you're ill is like trying to climb a tree when you're ill. Even if you've done it a hundred times before, even if you're strong enough to do it with ease, it becomes difficult and dangerous when done whilst sick." Merlin nodded, satisfied with this answer, before remembering that he interrupted his caretaker with his question.

"Sorry for interrupting," He said quickly, "What about my lungs?" It took Gaius a second before answering.

"As I was saying, from what I could tell, you have accumulated fluid in your lungs from being out in the cold while you had taken ill. If you're not careful, this could become very dangerous very quickly, as it already partially has."

"What do you mean?" Merlin rushed out, before coughing violently. Gaius gently helped the young boy up so he could breathe, and patted his back as the fit took hold. Merlin tried to lean away, again not wanting the older man to fall ill as well, but after struggling against Gaius's grip for a few seconds, he succumbed, choosing not to spend any strength he didn't have. Suddenly, Merlin could feel something from his lungs rising into his mouth.

"G-Gaius…" He forced out, and Gaius understood immediately, grabbing a nearby bucket and shoving it under Merlin's nose. Merlin coughed thrice more, before spitting a mouthful of red-tinged _gross_ into the bucket. The young boy whimpered in pain and embarrassment, and the physician continued rubbing his back in a way of comfort.

"Come on, Merlin. I have to see." Merlin whined in protest, but handed the bucket over anyways. Gaius peered inside before making a soft noise in the back of his throat and setting the bucket aside.

"That's what I mean. There was blood in there, Merlin. The buildup of fluid where there ought to be none has caused damage to your lungs. I only hope that with time, it will heal." What little color that was in Merlin's face left, and the young warlock was left looking shell-shocked and terrified.

"Can you fix it?" Merlin asked, fully aware that he sounded as if he were five years old again.

"I can try, my dear boy. Give me a minute while I prepare a draught and a poultice for your chest. The draught will take away some of the pain and act as an expectorant, while the poultice will make it easier to breathe." Merlin nodded and pulled up the covers, obviously chilled from the fever. Gaius left to make the remedies, and Merlin coughed weakly into the blanket, comforted by the familiar surroundings.

Arthur made his way to the Court Physician's chambers, worry etched in his usually impassive features. When he received word that Merlin would not be able to come in for work for at least the next week, Arthur dropped everything and hurried to see just how sick his servant _really _was. Once he arrived at the physician's door, he knocked with the usual vigor out of habit, but his heart really wasn't in it. From inside, he heard a faint "Come in", so he did, shutting the door gently behind him. The first thing that struck him was the smell. It smelled of peppermint, sick, and some other things that the king couldn't identify. The second thing was the sound of weak coughing coming from Merlin's chambers. The coughs were heavy and productive, but short and breathless. Arthur strode to Merlin's door and entered, watching as the physician rubbed a thick, sharp smelling poultice on his servant's chest, pausing every few moments when Merlin coughed his deep cough. The young man's face was pale and sweaty, and he breathed in shallow gasps.

"Merlin?" Arthur said quietly, and the warlock's eyes met the king's, and he could see embarrassment there.

"Arthur?" His voice was all but gone, and each word made Arthur cringe in sympathy, "See? I told you I'd be fine." Arthur laughed humorlessly and drew closer to the bed, looking down at his frail figure.

"Gaius? What's wrong with him?"

"He has fluid in his lungs, sire. I'm currently giving him remedies to cure it, but I will warn you: There may be some permanent damage by the time he is through this." Arthur grew pale and swallowed nervously, but kept his face blank as he met eyes with his servant - _friend_, Arthur said to himself_, he is your friend_.

"Leave it to you _Merlin_ to turn some _cold_ into something like _this_." Merlin smiled weakly, then reached up and grasped Arthur's arm

"Listen-" he rasped, then broke off coughing. Gaius had long since backed away and was now watching sadly from a chair in the corner of the room. Once the fit had subsided, Merlin spoke once more.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was upset and I didn't mean-"

"Merlin, stop being _ridiculous_. As much as it pains me to admit it, you're my friend, and I'm… I'm sorry if I've made you think you're anything less than that." The words were obviously difficult to get out, and Merlin smiled at it.

"Arthur, stop it and sit down." Taken aback but pleased, Arthur sat next to Merlin, recoiling slightly from the feverish heat of Merlin's body. "I don't really want to talk about it, not when I feel like this." Merlin gestured at his chest, coughing a bit as he did so. "Can you just… sit here, with me? Please?"

Arthur was surprised by this affection Merlin was showing, but slightly pleased as well.

"Oh well, alright. Is this fine, or should I kneel at your bedside too?" Merlin chuckled and shook his head.

"No, but be warned - I may hold your hand." At this, Arthur outright laughed, making Merlin laugh as well. Of course, the laugh made him cough, and it made him cough _hard_, shaking the bed with the force of it.

"Just rest Merlin." said Arthur quietly, once the coughs subsided. Merlin nodded slightly, and shut his eyes. Arthur continued gazing at his friend, long past when the young warlock's breaths became snores. He continued gazing when Gaius left the room, mumbling something about preparing another potion. He continued gazing when Merlin started coughing in his sleep, his face turning red with the effort of drawing breath. He did not stop looking until sleep overtook his own body, and he sank into the depths of unconsciousness, not really noticing that he had laid ride beside the frail body of Merlin.


	5. Chapter 5

_There is blood. So much blood. It seems almost to be raining from the sky. Arthur stands on the horizon, sword in his hand and murder in his eyes. The bodies of the sorcerers he's slain litter the ground around him, and Merlin stands in front. He's tied to a tree, helpless, as he watches Arthur come closer. He screams, but no sound comes out. Arthur raises his sword, no emotion in his face, and just before he swings, he speaks._

"_You are a sorcerer. You are evil. You deserve this. Goodbye, Merlin."_

Merlin screamed, bolting upright. This was not the first time he has had the dream, but it was the most intense one yet. He coughed, wincing when pain shot through his chest and abdomen. Luckily, the coughing didn't last long, and Merlin was able to catch his breath rather quickly. It only took a few seconds for him to notice blue eyes staring intensely from the foot of the bed, and a few seconds more to see who they belonged to.

"Arthur?" Whispered Merlin, throat throbbing from when he screamed himself awake. It was after he said the King's name that he felt the pressure and warmth of a hand on his leg.

"Nightmare?" Arthur asked sleepily, and Merlin nodded. "What was is about?"

"Nothing. I mean, I can't remember." Arthur didn't miss the note of panic in Merlin's voice and decided not to push it. Instead, he stood up and walked over so that he was right beside Merlin.

"You're breathing sounds better." Commented Arthur, and Merlin smiled a bit.

"I guess Gaius's awful concoction actually did something for once."

"I heard that!" Both of the young mens' heads whipped around and saw that Gaius had woken, and he was approaching the bed. "Here, let me take a look." He leaned into his ward and listened to his chest, smiling when he pulled away.

"You sound better, but still congested. With luck, the first treatments will be enough to rid your lungs of most of the fluid inside. I will warn you, it's going to be… repulsive." Merlin swallowed in fear and embarrassment, looking at Arthur's face apprehensively. Arthur understood at once and stood up, hoping to give Merlin some privacy for what was sure to be an unpleasant few days.

"I'll leave you to it then. Take care, Merlin." And then he was gone, leaving Merlin's leg feeling cold without the hand.

"Breathe Merlin, just breathe." Soothed Gaius, rubbing Merlin's back while the young ward coughed forcefully into a bucket. As promised, the remedy given to Merlin was working to expel the fluid from his lungs, but the process was more than unpleasant. After resting a bit more, the warlock had shot up and begun to cough, each cough more productive than the one before it. His face was contorted in strain and discomfort as he reached for the bucket that had been placed beside his bed. That had been several hours earlier, and Merlin was still holding the same bucket, only pausing in his violent expulsions long enough for Gaius to empty the bucket, and then it would start all over again.

"Gaius…" Merlin muttered weakly, then resuming the coughing. Gaius laid a hand on Merlin's forehead, frowning in dismay when he felt that the fever had risen.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I thought… you said… you said I was doing… better." He said, voice broken and hitching.

"You are. You're coughing it up, which means that this will be over soon. You just have to ride it out." Merlin whined, then gagged.

"I'm…"

"Yes, I know. Let it out." That was all it took before Merlin was sick, emptying his stomach and his lungs out into the bucket. Gaius made a sympathetic noise, feeling the young boy's muscles constrict under his clothes. Finally, several minutes later, the attack stopped, and Merlin leaned back into his pillows, exhausted.

"Any better?" Asked Gaius, and Merlin nodded weakly. The physician gently took the bucket from the warlock's hands and emptying it into the nearby basin, feeling a spark of fear when he saw the reddish-brown color of the fluid. _Damn_.

"What is it Gaius?" Merlin's feeble voice stretched across the room, and Gaius turned slowly.

"Nothing, my boy. Get some sleep." Merlin didn't have to be told twice, and within seconds was unconscious. Gaius, on the other hand, sat in a chair next to Merlin's bed, vowing to keep a watch on the grievously ill young man. The blood he had seen in the bucket had only further confirmed his suspicions that serious damage had been done to the servant's lungs, but only time would tell just how serious. _Oh, Merlin, why didn't you just _tell _us you were ill. We could have _helped _you_. For now Gaius was certain that Merlin had been feeling sick for much longer than a few days. A sickness like this takes weeks to manifest, and Merlin would have been feeling under the weather for at least half of that time. Once the infection began to set in more seriously, the onslaught of symptoms would come quickly and without mercy. Gaius had seen this type of sickness once before, in a young boy during The Great Purge. He had been complaining of an intermittent cough and fatigue for a month, and then almost overnight his lungs filled with fluid and he developed a fever. Gaius was able to treat the child, but the illness caused irreparable damage to his lungs and he was no longer the same. The physician hoped with all his heart that the same would not happen to Merlin, despite all to the contrary.

It was several days later when Merlin's fever broke. Those days were spent with painful coughing and numerous returns to the faithful bucket. The fever cut into Merlin's mind with no relief until the young warlock was staring without seeing, and muttering words that made no sense, not even to Gaius, who understood the language of the old religion. There were frequent visits from Arthur and the Knights of Camelot, but none of them could get through to him. With every hour that passed, Gaius became more and more afraid that this sickness would not be like the last, and Merlin would not pull through. This is why when the fever finally broke and Merlin was able to sit up on his own, Gaius felt relief beyond anything he had ever felt before.

"Gaius?" The physician started, but once he saw who the voice belonged to, he relaxed.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"What happened to me? I remember feeling bad, then worse, then-" Merlin's sentence was abruptly cut off by more of the harsh coughing, less productive than before but painful all the same.

"You were very sick. Frankly, you are lucky to be alive. You had a dangerous infection of the lungs that was causing serious damage, but I was able to give you a remedy that helped. For a while, I was sure that I had failed. I'm glad I was wrong." Merlin's eyes widened, but he betrayed no emotion besides.

"How long have I been out?"

"About a week." Again, Merlin's eyes widened.

"How's Arthur?" At this, Gaius smiled. Leave it to Merlin to worry only of the king, and not of himself.

"He's alright, but worried. We all are. Now, Merlin, I need to tell you some things that may distress you. I know you have just woken but I must insist." Merlin coughed, then nodded.

"I've only seen an illness like this once before. Many years ago, in one of the lower towns. The boy I treated recovered, but he never truly was the same. His lungs remained weak throughout the rest of his life, and I fear the same fate awaits you."

"What does that mean, Gaius?" Merlin's eyes betrayed fear now, and Gauis was silent for a beat.

"That means that you need to be careful. It may take weeks for this cough to leave you, if it ever does, and weeks more before you will be able to do all that you used to. I will prepare a potion for you to take daily, it should help ease your breathing and restore your normal lung function. But, I should warn you; you will still be very weak, and the cough will probably return every once and awhile." Merlin took all this information in stride, but there was still one question on his mind.

"And what of my magic?" This question, Gaius could answer without fear.

"It should make a full recovery. But you shouldn't strain your use of it for a while. It could still weaken you greatly if you start too soon." The young warlock smiled genuinely, relieved that he would still have the use of his most precious gift.

"That's great! Now I must go see Arthur!." Merlin tried to stand, against the sudden protests of Gaius, but black spots danced across his vision once he made it to his feet. He plopped back down onto the bed, praying that he wouldn't pass out, and fell into a coughing fit. Gaius sighed and rubbed Merlin's back, hoping that the fit would pass soon. Eventually, it did, leaving Merlin's chest heaving.

"How long will _that _be happening?" Asked Merlin.

"I honestly don't know. I'm sorry that I cannot give you more answers. I just hope that, in time, you will heal enough to be back to your old self."

Athur heard a knock at his door, and he hastily sat up in bed.

"Come in." His voice was gravelly from sleep, and his head was pounding. His eyes swivelled to the door, and he saw a servant from another part of the castle step inside.

"My lord, I have been sent to you by the physician. It's Merlin." Arthur was at his feet in a flash, heart pounding.

"What about him?" He asked sharply. The servant smiled slightly, almost like a smirk, then spoke.

"He's awake, my lord."

Arthur pounded on Gaius's door, completely aware that the inhabitants may be asleep, but too ready to see Merlin to care. The last few times the king visited Merlin, the servant had been writhing under the blankets, face shining with sweat and unable to breathe for coughing. Arthur had only glimpsed fluid being brought up by his friends lungs, but he saw it long enough to see the blood shining within it. The sight had scared him more than he would ever be able to admit and he fled, but not before telling Gaius to send word if there was any change. That was the previous morning, and now Merlin was awake. It was almost too much to hope for.

Suddenly, Arthur heard the doorknob turning and he stepped back. The door swung open to reveal a very harassed looking Gaius.

"Ah, King Arthur. I see you got my message."

"Yes. How's Merlin?" Gaius smiled knowingly, and Arthur felt a stab of annoyance, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"Why don't you come in and see for yourself. He's still awake." The king didn't wait to be told twice and he pushed past Gaius, eager to see how the young warlock was doing. Gaius sighed and shut the door, exhausted from the previous nights' happenings, and turned to see Arthur standing at Merlin's door.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Sire? Surely you want to go in?"

"Gaius, how long has he been sick? And don't lie to me." Arthur said all this with his back still turned to the physician, but Gaius could hear the guilt in the king's voice.

"He says that he's been feeling off for about two weeks, Sire." Silence greeted the physician's soft words. "You mustn't blame yourself for what has happened. I know Merlin better than anyone, and he would never tell you something that he feels is trivial." Again, there was no response, but finally, Arthur knocked softly on Merlin's door. A weak "Come in." was heard, and Arthur stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he entered the room, Arthur noticed how fragile the young warlock had become in his time of sickness. The normally light-complexioned man was now as pale as the sheets he lay on, and his breathing was still noticeably labored.

"Hello Arthur," Merlin rasped out, voice still hoarse. "Fancy meeting you here." Then Merlin coughed deeply, turning his head in the opposite direction. Arthur frowned in sympathy as he heard Merlin wince with each cough.

"I thought Gaius said you were doing better." Arthur said with a small smile.'

"I am. It's just going to take a while for the cough to go away, that's all." Merlin decided that it would be best if his friend didn't know the full effects that the illness would give, so he just gave this simple answer. Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn't push it, and he pulled up a stool to sit next to Merlin.

"So, are you going to tell me why?" Merlin coughed once more, then frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why you decided not to tell me you were ill." Although the king didn't think that it was possible, Merlin's face blanched even further.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Not important! You could have _died_." Too late Arthur realized that his emotions were spilling into his voice, and he could see Merlin smirk.

"If I didn't know you any better Sire, I'd think that you were worried about me." Arthur twisted his face into one of annoyance instead of vulnerability and responded.

"I wasn't _worried_, I just didn't want the task of finding a new servant when I have so many other things to be doing." Merlin huffed out a laugh and winced as pain shot through his chest.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked quickly, then chided himself for the emotion that had once more crept into his voice.

"I'm fine Arthur. Just sore from the coughing." Merlin didn't quite meet the king's eyes as he said this, but again, Arthur didn't push it.

"Alright, but I don't want you pushing yourself too hard." Merlin smiled. "Don't look too happy about it. I expect you to be back mucking out my stables as soon as Gaius gives the word. I'll be stuck with George until you get back, so don't be too long." Arthur searched Merlin's eyes once more, hoping to see a bit of the man he was before the illness, and after a few moments, he found it: that glint in the young warlock's eyes when he was about to laugh, or cry. Satisfied, Arthur made to leave the room.

"I'll see you soon, Arthur." The king smiled but did not turn around, and stepped out of the room to head to his chambers. He may have been holding back some of his emotions but he wasn't lying about one thing - he had a _lot_ to do.


	6. Chapter 6

"Merlin?" There was a soft tap on the warlock's door, and it slowly creaked open to reveal Guinevere.

"Gwen? What are you doing here?" Merlin spoke softly, not wanting to trigger a cough attack in front of the queen.

"I was just stopping by to see how you were doing. Gaius said that your fever had gone down, but I wanted to see for myself. I'm glad you're feeling better, Merlin." The young warlock smiled, but the smile quickly dropped and he coughed harshly into his sleeve, taking care to turn away from Gwen as he did so.

"Although not too much better, I reckon. How bad is it?" Merlin stiffened, but Gwen held his gaze until he answered.

"It hurts, mostly. I just want to be able to go back to my duties, which I would if it weren't for thi-" He broke off, coughing once more, and he felt a warm hand place itself on his shoulder.

"For the cough?" The queen offered helpfully, and Merlin gave her a frustrated look.

"Yeah. For this damn cough." At this, Gwen took the ill servant into her arms, hugging him in a comforting manner.

"You'll get better soon, Merlin. I know you will. In the meantime, we can help you get your strength back. You're all skin and bones."

"I couldn't eat during the worst of it. It would all just come right back up." Gwen made a sympathetic noise and continued holding her friend, as Merlin made no attempt to move from where they sat.

Suddenly, Merlin started to cough. He quickly freed himself from Gwen's embrace and turned away from her, wincing as pain shot through his chest with every inhale. Even though the coughs were less productive now, they still sounded nasty, and Gwen didn't really know what to do to help.

"Easy, Merlin. Just breathe." She said, feeling useless as she rubbed his back. He made no sign that he heard her, but just kept on coughing, until finally he let his head droop down and the coughs ceased.

"Merlin? You alright?" No answer. "Hello?" She turned his head to face her own and gasped. There was a small trickle of blood coming from his mouth, and his eyes had rolled back into his head.

"Gaius!" She screamed, and the physician rushed into the room.

"What happened?" He said professionally, while helping Gwen lay Merlin down on the bed.

"I don't know! We were talking and he started coughing and-" Gwen's eyes were wild with worry, as were Gaius's.

"It's okay, Guinevere. Please move out of the way so I can check his lungs." Obediently, Gwen backed up to the wall, devastated by Merlin's apparent turn for the worse. She watched as Gaius pressed an ear to Merlin's chest and felt his pulse, and she winced when Merlin started to cough again.

"Merlin, can you hear me?" Gaius said firmly, and Merlin nodded, unable to say anything.

"You're okay Merlin. It's just a minor bleed, and you're choking on the blood. I need you to help me sit you up, can you do that?" Again, Merlin nodded, and Gaius helped him to sit up.

"Is there anything I can do?" Asked Gwen, desperate to help in some way.

"Get me a towel. I don't want him to stain his sheets with blood." Gwen raced to where she knew Gaius kept the towels and grabbed one, then ran back to where Merlin was still coughing, blood dribbling down his chin and onto his nightshirt. The physician held the towel under Merlin's face as he coughed up the dark red liquid.

"What's happened?" Gaius looked up at the queen comfortingly.

"It's alright, m'lady. It is merely a minor bleed in his lungs. It will cease soon enough - think of it as a nosebleed. He'll be fine." Gwen looked dubious, but relaxed slightly as the flow of blood began to taper off and Merlin was able to breathe. Gently, Gaius lowered Merlin back down onto the bed, wiping off the smears of blood on the warlock's face as he did so.

"What… the hell… was that?" Whispered Merlin.

"There was a minor bleed in your lungs, Merlin. It's nothing to worry about. It was bound to happen, as there was damage to them from the sickness." Merlin looked fearful but resigned, and then glanced over to where Gwen stood, wide-eyed and trembling."

"Gwen, why don't you sit down. You look like you're about to fall over." Merlin said all of this in a joking matter, but suddenly Gwen rushed to his side.

"Oh, Merlin! You don't even know, do you?"

"Know what?" He asked, taken aback.

"About how _worried_ we've all been about you! You come back from a hunt, sick out of your mind, practically _dying_, all the while ranting and raving in a fever dream about how Arthur's going to burn you at the stake! You say you're fine now but how _could_ you be? I've seen with my own eyes the damage that's been done to you, and yet you're worried about _me_? Arthur's been up all night, for he can't sleep since you've taken ill! Gwaine's been pacing the corridors, and when he found out you were awake, he practically fainted before coming to see you! Lancelot has been beside himself, as he feels that it was all his fault that he didn't see it coming! And yet you yell at them, accuse them of not caring - Merlin, they _love_ you, and you can't even see it through your mask of self-hate and misery! If you took one second to look, _really_ look, you would see that you aren't alone, and you never have been. So I need you to _see that, _before you die from not caring enough about what happens to you!" Merlin laid there, taking in all of what she said, tears rolling shamelessly down his face. Gaius had left, wanting to give them some privacy, so they were alone.

"Gwen…" He started, his voice choked from the sobs that threatened to tear out from his throat. He coughed, wincing once more from the white-hot pain in his chest.

"I don't… I don't know what to say, except…" He paused to cough again, and Gwen could see that he was holding back another fit to get the words out. "Except thank you."

"I don't need you to thank me, Merlin. I need you to get better." Gwen smiled though, to show that she meant it, and Merlin smiled too.

"Now you need to rest. I'll come back later. And about what I said?" Merlin looked expectantly at her, "I hope you know I speak for the others, too. Especially Arthur." She took one last look at the frail man laying in the bed, then left, closing the door softly behind her, leaving Merlin to his thoughts.

Merlin laid in bed, mulling over Gwen's unexpected outburst. He knew that she had been right, so why did thinking about it make him so uncomfortable? He did not know, but he did know that he had been wrong to confront Arthur and the knights like that.

"Merlin? May I come in?" The young warlock heard the voice of Gaius echo through the door, and Merlin called out to let him in.

"Gaius? Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I just wanted to give you a draught to help with the pain you seem to be feeling in your chest. I noticed you rubbing it earlier, and you wincing. How badly does it hurt?" Merlin was quiet for a second, so Gaius added, "Tell me the truth."

"It's… not great." Gaius raised an eyebrow, forcing Merlin to elaborate. "It burns, and it's sharp. It feels like I'm being stabbed, over and over again." Gaius frowned in concern, then uncorked the bottle he brought with him.

"This should help take away some of the pain, but I have to say - what you've said worries me. Tell me if the pain gets any worse, alright?" Merlin nodded, then turned his head, signalling to Gaius that he wanted to be alone. The physician took the hint and stepped out of the room to give his ward some privacy.

The next three days were rough ones; Merlin suffered through two more bleeds, but each one was easier than the one before it. It was at the end of the third day, just when the sun began to set over Camelot, when Merlin was finally able to get out of the bed he had been confined to for almost a week. The trip was short, as Merlin was only able to make it to his door before he collapsed from exhaustion. Gaius, Arthur and Lancelot caught him in time, however, and helped him back to his bed.

"Will I ever get my strength back?" Asked Merlin, sounding younger than he actually was.

"Of course!" Lancelot said cheerfully, but Merlin could detect a hint of something false in his wide smile.

"That was convincing." This time, Lancelot smiled for real, as did Arthur and Gaius.

"Well, I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor at least." Arthur mocked, making everyone in the room laugh. Merlin ended his with a cough, making everyone stop and stare at him.

"Before anyone says anything, I'm alright. The laugh just rubbed my throat wrong. I'm not about to die on you." The feeble attempt at a joke was met with even more feeble attempts at smiles.

"Well…" Lancelot said after an awkward silence, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready to go to bed. Merlin, I'm glad you were able to be up and about. Hopefully it'll all go up from there. Gaius, My Lord." After the knight excused himself, he left the room, leaving Gaius and Arthur alone with the exhausted warlock.

"So, how's it going with George? I hear he was a real laugh at the feast a couple days ago."

"If you're referring to his attempts made on the Lady Elisa, that was _not_ funny. She threatened to string him up!" Merlin had been looking at Arthur with amusement, and at this last statement he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry, but George… flirting with a _noblewoman_… what did he ever think would come out of that?" Now Arthur was laughing too, and for a minute they just sat there, laughing for the sake of laughter. But, of course, their laughter was interrupted by Merlin's lungs.

"Sorry." Merlin said quietly, but Arthur quickly shut that down.

"Merlin, there's no need to apologize. I know you can't help it."

"No, Arthur, I'm sorry for shouting at you before. I was wrong, and I'm sorry for-"

"Stop." Arthur's voice was calm, but it carried the kind of kingly authority that would shut anyone up.

"I'm not angry with you, Merlin. Perhaps… I have not shown you the care that you deserve. Perhaps you were right."

Merlin gaped at Arthur, completely caught off guard by this sudden display of affection.

"Arthur… are you finally admitting that you were wrong?" Arthur scowled and pushed Merlin gently.

"No, I'm simply…" But of course, the king didn't know what to say next, and Merlin smiled.

"Thanks."

"It's no problem. But you need to rest, as do I. I'll come back in the morning."

"I'll see you tomorrow, my lord." Arthur smiled, then exited his friend's chambers and walked to his own, wishing the whole way there that his friend was by his side.


	7. Chapter 7

"Merlin!"

"_Merlin!_"

"MERLIN!"

"Yes sire?" Merlin popped out from Arthur's closet, grinning at the King's exasperated face.

"Couldn't you hear me calling for you? You're right there!"

"Sorry, _my lord_, I was trying to organize and I must have blocked it out." Arthur did a double take of his servant.

"Organize? Organize what?"

"The clothes."

"_Why?_"

"Well because," Merlin gestured at the wardrobe, "_someone_ decided it would be a good idea to just _throw_ all of the clothes in here." He glanced at Arthur. "I don't really have to guess who, do I?"

"What, you've been on _vacation_ while I've had to make do without a servant!"

"It wasn't _vacation_, you _told_ me to rest!" He held his hands up in surrender. "I was just following orders." Arthur ignored this last statement, instead focusing back on the document he was supposed to be working on. His concentration was shattered, however, when Merlin coughed into his sleeve, trying to stifle what must have been very painful.

"Merlin." The young warlock held up a hand, signaling to the King that he would be a moment. "Let it out Merlin." And so he did, grabbing onto the wardrobe to keep his balance. Arthur watched him with concern.

"Sorry, sire." muttered Merlin, slowly removing his hand from the furniture.

"Don't apologize Merlin, we've talked about this."

"Right, sorry." Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn't turn his head from his servant.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"_Yes_, how many times must you ask me that?"

"As many times as I want, I'm the king."

"So I've heard." Merlin said under his breath.

Arthur looked inquisitively at the young warlock, as if he was debating whether or not to say something.

"We need you down at the field."

"What, why?"

"Training." Merlin paled slightly, and Arthur noticed. "Re_lax_, I'm not going to make you be a target. I just need you to take care of the weapons."

"Oh, okay. Let me get back to Gaius first, he said he wanted to see me."

"Alright, but make it quick!" Merlin nodded and ducked out of the room, hurrying as fast as he was able.

"Gaius?" Merlin called, coughing lightly into his wrist afterwards. "Gaius, you there?"

"Merlin!" He spun around to see Gaius in the doorway, carrying his basket of remedies and herbs. "Where were you this morning? I couldn't find you!"

"Sorry, I was with Arthur."

"You shouldn't be doing too much Merlin. I warned you before and I'll warn you again; you're not well." This Merlin knew, and it scared him more than he'd like to admit.

"I know Gaius, but I can't just sit around and do nothing while I feel mostly okay. I've just got the cough, and it's not that bad most of the time."

"What about last night?" Merlin paused.

"Last night?"

"Mhm, last night. Don't think I didn't hear you." The young warlock sighed, sitting down heavily on one of the chairs nearby.

"I'd hoped you wouldn't." Gaius sat down next to his ward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Really Merlin, you mustn't try and hide your fits like that. You could cause more damage. Was there any blood?" Merlin was silent. "Was there any blood?" the physician repeated.

"Only a little, I swear!"

"Merlin, from now on, if you are coughing like that, _wake me_. I will not be angry."

"Gaius, I'll be _fine_."

"How many times have you said that, and how many times have I proved you wrong!" The older man was getting agitated now. "I _need _to make sure you're alright, and you _need_ to let me." He took his ward's silence as assent, and his gaze softened. "How are you feeling, m'boy?"

"It hurts, Gaius. I want it to stop. I feel fine, and then something _shifts_, and I can't breathe anymore. I try to hide it from Arthur when it happens, but it's getting harder. What's happening to me?"

"I wish I knew how to help you Merlin. Have you tried using your magic for it? You shouldn't still be having problems with it."

"I don't want to use my magic for this. I need to save my strength, in case Arthur needs my help. I don't want to waste it all on me." Gaius raised an eyebrow in obvious disagreement, but Merlin silenced him by coughing lightly. Unfortunately, this triggered a much larger cough, causing the young warlock's face to contort in pain.

"Oh, Merlin…" Gaius said sadly, wrapping his arm around the still-coughing man. He listened to the painful coughs, paying close attention to how chesty they still seemed. "You still sound terrible." Merlin shrugged half-heartedly as the fit subsided.

"I feel fine Gaius. I just wish the cough would go away. It's not like I'm still _dying_ or anything."

"That's not funny Merlin."

"I know." The young warlock bowed his head. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood I guess." Gaius said nothing, but he understood.

"Are you absolutely _certain_ you don't want to take more time off? I'm sure Arthur would allow it." Merlin smiled.

"Yes Gaius, I'm certain. Arthur may need me."

"I wouldn't be too sure, clotpole." Merlin and Gauis both jumped at the unexpected sound and turned to the door, fully expecting to see the king standing there. Instead, it was Elyan, smiling.

"That was an impressive imitation, Sir Elyan." Gaius said respectively, and Elyan chuckled.

"How are you Merlin?" The young warlock blinked in surprise at being addressed so suddenly.

"Oh, I'm… I'm alright." Gaius glanced at his ward, but his face betrayed nothing.

"You sure? I could hear you coughing before I came in. You sound better, but still not well."

"I'm afraid Merlin's cough may take longer to subside than many of us hoped." The knight's eyes flitted to his friend's, and for the first time he noticed how _tired_ he looked.

"Listen, Merlin… Arthur sent me to fetch you, but if you want I can tell him that you're feeling unwell. I'm sure he would be fine with you taking a night off." At this Merlin laughed a bit, pausing to cough again. This elicited a look of concern from both other men. Merlin ignored them.

"I don't need a night off Elyan. I'm coming with." He made to stand, but was caught off balance by a rush of dizziness. He gripped the table and felt Gaius reach an arm out to steady him. "Sorry, I must've stood up too quickly."

"Merlin, I don't think you should be - "

"Gaius, I'll be alright. Don't worry about me."

"Well, if you're sure m'boy…" Merlin nodded, then walked over to where Elyan stood, patiently waiting.

"Let's go."

Merlin leaned against the weapon's table, watching Arthur and the knights train with swords, maces, and some ranged weapons as well. His legs felt weak. This was the longest he had been standing since getting sick, and his body was not happy with him. The knights kept glancing at him with concern, and Arthur even came over once to make him drink some water. His throat was sore with coughing, a feeling he had never liked but now absolutely despised.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted from the entrance to the castle. "Clean this mess up and meet us in the armory." Merlin nodded, coughed, and set to work, picking up the various shields strewn about. Once more, he felt himself slipping into a coughing fit. Trying in vain to stifle it, he rushed inside the castle and up the short stairs to the armory, knowing that Arthur would be waiting for him. Too late, he realized that running up stairs while he was trying to get his breath back wasn't the best idea. The pressure in his chest built until he could hold it in no longer, and he coughed hard into his arm, using the other arm to brace himself against the wall. The coughing wouldn't stop, and he was starting to see little black spots in his vision. He sat down against the wall, trying to breathe evenly, and eventually, he put his head between his knees. He could tell that the cough had become slightly productive and he groaned internally. Suddenly, he heard a door open, and he could hear the loud voices of the knights from beyond the threshold. The young warlock realized that they would be expecting him, so slowly, careful not to upset his still itching lungs, he stood up. The corridor swam before his eyes, and he took a few deep breaths before walking to the armory. Upon entering, he could feel six pairs of eyes on him.

"About time Merlin. I was about to send Leon to go…" The king's sentence trailed off as he looked at his servant for the first time. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked, staring at Merlin's pale face and hearing his labored breathing.

"I…" the young warlock tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Merlin?" Lancelot said gently, "You alright?" Suddenly, Merlin snapped back into focus, and after clearing his throat roughly, he was able to answer.

"Yeah, I just… I think I took the stairs too quickly is all." The knights frowned at him, as did Arthur.

"Are you sure?" voiced Leon, eying the ailing boy with concern and suspicion.

"I'm sure."

But the moment was ruined when Merlin coughed loudly, letting the knights hear how much worse he sounded from earlier that day.

"My God Merlin, you aren't really one for sharing are you?" Gwaine blurted out, "You sure don't sound fine my friend."

"No, he doesn't," Arthur reflected, "Go to Gaius. Now. That's an order." Merlin tried to protest, but was silence by a death glare from all of the knights

"Fine." The young warlock said grumpily.

"I'm coming with." Lancelot said, and Merlin had to say something.

"Come on Lancelot, I'll be fine to walk to my quarters. I don't need a _babysitter_."

"I'm not coming with so I can babysit you. I've been feeling under the weather myself, and I'm hoping Gaius can give me some herbs." All eyes then turned to the knight questioningly.

"You're feeling ill?" The king asked.

"No, just a little run down. Tired." Arthur nodded, as did Merlin.

"I'm ready to go now. Merlin?" The young warlock nodded for a second time, and Arthur smiled as they walked out of the door. However, he frowned when he could hear his servant coughing from down the hall. There was only one thought running through his mind: _Not again_.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a knock at the door to Gaius's chambers. The physician was startled, but shook himself off and made his way towards the door. Upon opening it, he saw Lancelot and Merlin standing there.

"Oh, hello Sir Lancelot! What can I do for you?"

"May we come in?" Gaius, sensing a problem, stepped aside and gestured towards the room.

"Of course." The knight and the servant stepped over the threshold, and Gaius took note of the shakiness in Merlin's legs. Once inside, Lancelot turned to Gaius and gave him a significant look.

"I'm afraid I may be catching a cold. Are there any remedies you could prescribe to help?" Gaius nodded, a nod that, to an outsider, would have been seen as one of assent, but was really one of understanding.

"Of course, I'll prepare something right away." As the physician busied himself with trying to look busy, the knight made his way towards Merlin. The young warlock had sat down next to the fire and was rubbing his hands together in an obvious attempt to warm up.

"Cold, Merlin?"

"A bit, yeah." He said with a grin. Lancelot sat next to his friend and stared into the flames. "You're getting sick?"

"I'll be alright, don't worry about me. It's probably nothing." The knight didn't meet Merlin's eyes as he said this, but Merlin was too busy trying to keep warm to notice.

"How are you?" Merlin glanced at Lancelot quickly before responding.

"I'm alright, I guess."

"You don't sound too sure. Your chest is bothering you again, I presume?" The ailing man nodded, then, as if to make a point, coughed into his fist. Gaius looked up from his 'preparations' upon hearing his ward, but said nothing. Instead, he bundled up an empty bottle and crossed the room to hand it to Lancelot.

"Thanks, Gaius."

"It is no problem. Take it tonight before you go to bed; it should help rid you of any symptoms you may be feeling." Lancelot nodded and walked towards the door, then said in undertone to Gaius:

"Thanks for helping me get him to rest." The physician nodded and smiled, but the smile dropped after the knight left the room with a quick, 'Feel better Merlin!"

Gaius sat next to Merlin, noting the young man's pallor and shaky breath. They sat in silence, until Merlin spoke.

"I can tell you want to say something. Just say it." When the physician only sighed in response, Merlin twisted his body to look him in the eyes. "Let's hear it."

"I'm not sure there's anything to say, Merlin."

"Oh come on, you _always_ have something to say." Gaius smiled softly at this.

"I'm afraid that you're not getting better as quickly as I'd hoped. I thought that with your magic, you would make a swift recovery. Unfortunately, that's not the case."

"What do you mean?" The physician sighed.

"You're getting sick again." Merlin shook his head.

"No! No, I'm _fine_. You said the cough may return. I'm not _sick_, I'm just getting over it, that's all."

"Do you really believe that?" Merlin had no answer to that. Instead, he coughed quietly into his arm, hoping that his guardian wouldn't make a fuss over it. He didn't, but the young warlock could feel the physician's eyes on him.

"I've been doing some research to see what could help you regain your strength. I've found a spell, it seems to be used in situations such as these." Gaius handed a small piece of paper to Merlin. On it were several lines in the language of the old religion. "Why don't you try it?" Merlin shrugged and read the words on the paper, lips moving silently as he did so. After a moment, he straightened and spoke the words of the old religion, stiffening when he felt his magic rush through his body. The warlock's eyes flashed gold, and then it was over.

"Well, how do you feel?" Merlin blinked slowly, staring at the ground. It was true; the tightness in his chest had lessened, but he still felt the weight of his illness tugging at his breath.

"Better, but still not good. Is that right?" The physician's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Perhaps. It's not a cure, it's merely a treatment. Hopefully, as time goes on, the effect of the spell will ease your recovery. For now though, you must rest." Merlin wearily went to stand and go to his room, but Gaius stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Don't let me catch you out in the cold without a cloak again Merlin." The young warlock opened his mouth to ask just how the physician knew that he had been out without a cloak.

"How did you- " Gaius cut him off with a laugh.

"You know Merlin, you're not the only one who can have secrets." Merlin smiled a bit and turned. "Get some rest my boy. I'll wake you up in the morning." The young warlock nodded but didn't turn back around as he walked to his chambers. Once inside, he all but collapsed into his bed and took as deep a breath as he could muster. Happily, he noticed that this breath came easier than before the potion. He felt the vague notion that maybe he should tell Gaius that it helped, but before the thought could go into effect, he was fast asleep.

Arthur's eyes skimmed the document laying at his desk. He knew that it would have to be reviewed and signed before the night was over, but he didn't realize that it would be so long. _If Merlin was here he could read it and tell me what was actually important_, Arthur thought to himself, but quickly tried to leave all thoughts of Merlin behind. Gwen was out doing whatever she does in her free time, and Merlin was… this was where Arthur's mind betrayed him. He didn't know exactly _what_ Merlin was doing, but another servant had come by a couple hours earlier to tell the king that Merlin would not be in for the rest of the night. This scared Arthur, more than he really cared to think about. So, because thoughts of Merlin would inevitably lead to worry about Merlin, the king tried valiantly to be rid of all thoughts of his manservant.

A knock on the door startled Arthur out of his stupor. With a slightly raised voice he called, "Come in!" and in stepped Lancelot. Glad to see one of his most trusted knights, the king rose.

"Ah, hello Sir Lancelot."

"Good evening, my lord."

"What brings you here so late?" But Arthur already knew the answer.

"I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I got Merlin to Gaius. He's not feeling his best right now, but he will be okay, sire. I thought you should know that." Lancelot bowed his head and made to leave.

"Lancelot?" Arthur called, "Did he say anything?"

"Anything about what?"

"About why the _hell_ he didn't tell me that he was getting worse!" There was silence at the kings outburst before the knight spoke quietly, almost as if he didn't want to be heard.

"I believe it has something to do with him wanting to be alright, even if he isn't. I suppose he thinks he can fix it somehow, and you don't need to know about it."

"But haven't we had this discussion before? He doesn't need to hide anything, especially not from me." It could have been Arthur's imagination, but he thought he saw a sad smile ghost Lancelot's lips before he replied.

"So I keep telling him, my lord." He gestured to the door. "May I?"

"Yeah, I won't keep you. Sleep well." The knight nodded and left the room, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

_So I keep telling him_? What the hell does that mean? Surely there weren't more things that his friend was keeping from him. The king's mind strayed to that conversation they had on that rock in the woods: "_All I have is what I am for you, and I can't even do that_." Those were the words spoken by his manservant, and they still made no sense, not even weeks later. He had wanted to ask, but Lancelot cut him off. Stranger still was just how _nervous_ the knight had been. Perhaps… something illegal? Arthur shook his head at that one almost immediately. _Merlin doesn't have the brains or the brawn to pull off anything of any importance_. The king smiled at his thoughts, but was still troubled by them all the same. _What is he hiding_? And, most importantly, _is he in danger_?

Merlin woke to the smell of something cooking outside his chambers. Pushing himself up out of the bed, he groaned in pain at his sore muscles. _Must've been coughing in my sleep again_. He yawned, and as he did so he felt something tugging at the corners of his lips. That was when he tasted the metallic tang in his mouth. He wiped the side of his mouth with his sleeve and grimaced when he saw the dried blood that he had wiped off. Slowly, he used a corner of his sheet to dip into his water cup and wipe the rest of the blood off his face. He then flipped the pillow so that the small red stain wouldn't be visible to anyone who came in. Satisfied that no one could see any evidence of the night before, Merlin left the room.

Gaius, who had been deeply absorbed in reading a thick, leather-bound book, looked up when he heard his ward open his door. Looking at the young warlock, Gaius felt that ever-constant worry flare up in his chest.

"How did you sleep Merlin?" Merlin tried to answer, but found that his throat was rough from the previous night's coughing. He cleared his throat so that he could answer, but this only caused him to begin coughing. It was productive again, and the taste of blood returned with a vengeance.

"Alright, my boy, sit down." Gaius was at Merlin's side in a flash, and gently helped him sit down so that there wasn't the possibility of an injury if he collapsed. Slowly, the coughing began to taper off, and Merlin swallowed convulsively, trying to keep the blood from making a reappearance into his hand or face.

"Sorry."

"Merlin-"

"Right, no apologizing, got it. I slept fine." Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?" The physician took a deep breath.

"Why do you keep trying to hide the blood?" Merlin's eyes quickly met Gaius's with a questioning look. "It's on your sleeve, Merlin."

"Oh, that, I…"

"I don't understand. Why can't you just tell me when these things happen? Ignoring it doesn't make it go away, I hope you know that."

"But telling you about it doesn't make it better, so why worry you?"

"It's my job to be worried, Merlin. It's my job."

"How _exactly_ is it your job?" Merlin coughed a couple times, and Gaius was silent. The physician just looked sadly at his ward, trying to convey what words could not do a justice.

"You know how. You're my ward, and I would never forgive myself if I let something happen to you." Merlin's gaze softened and he looked down at his lap, tears welling in his eyes. He didn't quite know why he was crying, but before he could say or do anything there was a sudden banging at the door.

"Merlin, let me in! I know you're in there." It was Arthur. Merlin stood cautiously and made his way to the door. When he opened it, Arthur barged into the room, looking like he tried to dress himself but failed miserably.

"Arthur?" Merlin said wearily, sitting back down on a stool.

"What are you hiding from me?" Merlin felt all the blood drain from his face, and Gaius stood up.

"He's hiding nothing!" The physician tried to convince Arthur, but the king's gaze didn't stray from Merlin's face.

"Tell me, Merlin."

"I don't -" he coughed, "- I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur stared for a moment.

"I don't either, but I know there's something. And Lancelot knows about it." At this, Merlin felt a bolt of adrenaline rush through his body.

"Why do you think Lancelot knows anything?"

"It's the way he was acting, when you were ill. Like he was trying to protect you somehow. Because, for some reason, you haven't told me about any of it, and it seems like you don't want me to know." Merlin sat in silence before he quietly spoke.

"Please, you have to trust me, Arthur. I would never do anything to hurt you." At the end of the sentence, he coughed again, and Arthur put a hand on his shoulder to make sure he didn't fall off the stool. He made eye contact with the young warlock and said, not unkindly;

"Then why don't you tell me?"

"Because… you would never look at me the same way. You would never trust me again. And I can't…" He didn't need to finish the sentence; the king understood. But he wasn't done.

"Whatever it is, I can see that you'll never tell me. But I will find out. Mark my words, Merlin; I will find out. And when I do, I hope it's from your own lips, and not from an enemy's." Without waiting for a response, Arthur left the room, leaving a stunned Merlin and a nervous Gaius in his wake.


End file.
